Three Companions Who Did and One Who Didn't
by Queen of the Castle
Summary: Three Companions Who Stopped the Doctor From Turning Himself Human and One Who Didn't. Human Nature/Family of Blood with Donna, Jack, Rose and then Martha as the Doctor's companion.
1. A Little Bit of Human Perspective

Summary: Really, how could Donna Noble turn down an offer of all of time and space? When the Doctor runs into a Family out to use him to make themselves immortal, Donna has the chance to prove yet again that he needs someone.

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Author's Notes: Human Nature/The Family of Blood if Donna had decided to take the Doctor up on his offer to travel with him at the end of Runaway Bride.

* * *

"Did they see you?"

"How should I know? Did you not see how fast I was running just now? I couldn't exactly take time to check out the scenery, could I?"

"But did they see you?"

Donna rolled her eyes. Did he really not understand the words 'I don't know'? Well, he was an alien who thought _he_ knew everything there was to know, so she supposed not.

"I didn't ever look at them," she admitted, "so I doubt they could have seen my face. Wouldn't bet my life on it, though."

That seemed to bring the Doctor up short. "Wouldn't bet your life ..." he muttered. Donna had that dawning feeling of dread (being with the Doctor had made her intimately familiar with it) that he was about to ask her to do just that.

"Argh, they're following us," the Doctor growled. He bounded around the console, flicking switches even faster than Donna was used to. "They're jumping time tracks, hanging about the TARDIS like flies near rotting food. Stolen technology, no doubt. I can't shake them."

"What happens if they catch us, then?"

"I'd rather it didn't come to that. Look," the Doctor started, "they can track me, because I'm unique. Only Time Lord in the universe; it's not a difficult scent to follow about. But you're human, and it's difficult to track any one of you lot with billions – trillions – of you hanging about various parts of time and space. And if they really didn't see you, there's this thing I can do to make it just as hard for them to track me as well. I can make myself into a human, and then I'll just be one among the many. The TARDIS will drop us off and create a place for me, and then she'll power down so they can't trace her. The people who are following us, the Family, they'll die within three months. We just have to wait them out. It'll be like a holiday, only backwards. Staying in one place instead of always on the move, just for a while. But I won't remember being me, so I'll need your help more than ever."

"Three months," Donna repeated, unimpressed.

"I know it's a lot to ask, Donna, and I'm sorry."

Donna waved his words off. "Yeah, that's all well and good, but that's not the problem. Thing is, I've never known you to go even three _hours_ without attracting trouble. Three months? You're just asking for it, aren't you? There's no way things will work out the way you're hoping. And what happens when things go pear-shaped, eh? What if this Family finds us after all, human or no human? You'll be all amnesiac and probably less than useless, and we'll be sitting ducks. And whatever people are around us will be cannon fodder."

"That's a bit of a mixed metaphor, isn't it? Ducks and cannons? Although I suppose it's all water-related," the Doctor mused somewhat inanely. Donna could see by his frown, though, that her words were having some impact on him.

"Like you have a leg to stand on there, Mr Talks-at-a-hundred-miles-an-hour-and-never-makes-a-speck-of-sense-to-anyone-sane."

"I'm just going by 'the Doctor' these days," he said.

"Not the time for jokes, really, is it? And anyway, another thing brainiac, they're out there travelling in time just like the TARDIS does, right?"

"Not 'just like the TARDIS'. _That_ is a human-designed gadget from just barely in your future that'll probably break the minute you press the on button, while the TARDIS is a frankly magnificent ship that –"

"That will also break the minute you press a button, or sometimes for no reason at all." At the Doctor's affronted look, Donna quickly continued, "Look, I've heard the 'Ode to the TARDIS' enough times, thanks. I get it. But if they can travel in time, even if the TARDIS is _better_ at it, then what stops them jumping through time to the end of our three months, just when we think it's safe and you've turned back. Couldn't they catch us then as easily as now?"

The Doctor was silent for a while, which was astonishing in itself. But it was nothing compared to what he said when he did eventually (inevitably, with his gob, Donna thought) speak up again.

"Donna Noble," he said, "sometimes you're even more magnificent than I am."

"Well, duh," she said casually, but she had to admit that the words made her chest puff up a little with pride. It was a good feeling, and one she still wasn't all that used to.

The Doctor nodded to himself. "All right, then, turning human, not the best idea after all. And we can't have them chase us through the Time Vortex for three months, because time in the Vortex is only relative so it isn't really passing them by, so they likely won't ever run out of life that way."

"So, what? We let them catch up to us and, as per usual, you use that motor-mouth to confuse the hell out of them until somehow, at the end of the day, you just happen to have saved the universe?"

The Doctor grinned manically. "Donna, you took the thought right out of my head."

Donna sighed. "Right. Here we go again."

* * *


	2. Considering All the Angles

Summary: He might be able to feel it the turn of the universe, but sometimes Jack has to remind the Doctor that it doesn't necessarily revolve around _him_.

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Author's Note: Human Nature/The Family of Blood if the Doctor hadn't run away from Jack on Satellite Five at the end of the Parting of the Ways.

* * *

It wasn't unusual for them to have to run for their lives without even really getting a good look at what was chasing them. Trouble came along, they ran. Figuring out the details tended to occur once they were in relative safety. It'd become habit, really, since barely a day went by without someone wanting them dead.

Jack loved it.

And then once they'd managed to regroup, the Doctor always tended to go off on a spiel of which Jack couldn't quite interpret more than the basic gist. Much like the speech the Doctor was currently giving him.

Jack loved that less.

Still, even though it was all a fairly familiar progression of events that seemed to go hand in hand with life on the TARDIS, somehow it felt different this time.

Jack let the Doctor dash about madly explaining things at five hundred miles an hour, because there was no point interrupting him until Jack had a better grip on what they should be arguing about. Because Jack was quite sure, based on how out-of-control the Doctor was looking at that moment, that an argument of some kind would be necessary. Besides, if he stopped the Doctor before he'd had his hyperactive rant for the day (or, at least, one of them, since that didn't always seem to fill his quota), the Doctor would probably just clam up obstinately and go about doing whatever he had planned without letting Jack in on it. That could be dangerous for both of them.

Ever since they'd lost Rose to the parallel universe, Jack had been learning that where Rose might have a calming effect on the Doctor, Jack was more likely to just aggravate him into doing something stupid. More stupid than usual, that was.

So he listened patiently while the Doctor said things like "This watch is me" that might sound crazy to Jack's ears if he hadn't been travelling with the Doctor for nearly two years now. He bore his way through the Doctor ranting at him (like it was somehow specifically Jack's fault) about irresponsible Time Agents leaving their Vortex Manipulators lying around for any old homicidal alien to nick; he didn't even point out, as he'd dearly have liked to, that he disliked the Time Agency even more than the Doctor did. He even listened to the Doctor explain why the Family wanted him without immediately saying a word.

But when the Doctor went to attach the watch to the contraption he'd identified as a 'Chameleon Circuit', Jack reached out and caught his hand.

"What about me?" he asked evenly.

"Oh, well, you'll just have to blend yourself in wherever we land. Ex-Time Agent, travelling through time and space with me for a while now, you'll be fine."

Jack scoffed. "Yeah, not really worried about that. I'm not the one who constantly fails to follow the rules of active camouflage."

"Then you're worried about me not remembering you, are you? I'll have a little residual awareness, so you shouldn't have any trouble slotting yourself into my fabricated life. I'd tell you to maybe avoid flirting with me so not to raise suspicion if we end up in a more primitive time, but I'd only be wasting my breath. Although, considering the danger, maybe it'd still –"

Jack was starting to get a little bit ticked off, so he interrupted the Doctor. He didn't do that nearly often enough. It was strangely satisfying.

"I never thought I'd say this to you, Doc, but you're not thinking straight. Maybe becoming human and losing your memories for a time appeals to you because it means you can forget about Rose," and seeing the Doctor's face cloud over, Jack hurried his point along, "but it's not the right decision _here_. If you're that desperate to spend some time living some made-up life, I'll go along with it _after_ we've dealt with this threat. Lord knows I don't think it'll help, but I'll try anything if it means you've at least admitted to yourself that you're hurting over losing her. So am I. You know I am. But this," he gestured at the Chameleon device, "is not going to help right here and now."

"You don't know what you're talking about," the Doctor very nearly snarled, sounding for a moment much more like the man Jack had first met, all dark and overly domineering.

"I do, actually. Because you're missing a pretty big point here. When I asked 'what about me', I wasn't talking about how I'll cope. You should know me better than that. I meant that this Family, who wants to become immortal, might not be all that focused on consuming a Time Lord with limited regenerations when there's an all-they-can-eat immortal buffet in the room. And I'd say that that quality's probably unique enough for them to track as well as they can track you."

The dark expression on the Doctor's face morphed into consternation.

"Oh, you didn't think I'd figured it out?" Jack smiled humourlessly. "I was exterminated by Daleks, and I woke up. I was electrocuted by an Ood communication device, and I woke up. Carrionites stopped my heart by some sort of magical blow, and I woke up. I'm getting the picture. I know I can't die. And I know _you_ know that I can't die. I saw the way you looked at me after the Game Station."

The Doctor, after a long pause, nodded once, curtly, in acknowledgement.

"So you can turn into a human and hide out all you like, but while you're off happily living a life unaware that aliens even exist, said aliens will be carrying me off and using me to extend their life so they can spend millennia killing their way across the universe."

"You're right," the Doctor admitted, suddenly seeming very tired. For the first time since meeting him, Jack didn't doubt for a moment that he was a full nine hundred years old. He wondered whether he'd be that exhausted when he reached nine hundred, or nine thousand, or –

Jack cut his own thoughts off with a shudder. It wouldn't do anyone any good for him to think about such things.

The Doctor tossed the fob watch back into the storage unit under the console where he'd found it.

"I know I'm right," Jack said. "And we'll talk about whether you still want to use that watch later, trust me. But for right now –"

"We have to go deal with the Family," the Doctor agreed.

"Yes. So, plan?"

The Doctor's grin was not as wide as it might have been a year ago, and it was touched with sadness (though Jack didn't know whether that sadness was for Jack's plight or was a symptom of the same mourning the Doctor had been going through for what seemed like forever). But still, it was a grin. That was more than Jack had seen in ages.

"Oh yes," the Doctor said. "I never just have the one plan. I come up with six impossible plans before breakfast, don't you know. Turning human was Plan A, you see. But do you know what Plan C is?"

"What happened to B?"

"C is better."

Jack laughed. "All right, then. What's C?"

The Doctor dashed to the console and pulled down a lever, abruptly changing their direction with a jerk. "First we run, which is always Plan A with me, really. Then, when we land on some backwater planet in the middle of nowhere where not even lost travellers might accidently happen by, we deal with them like we'd deal with any petulant creature that's hasn't yet lived a very long life."

"How's that, then?"

"We take away their toys. Jack, how would you feel about a new spaceship to replace that one I blew up that one time?"


	3. Human's Intuition

Summary: He trusts her enough to put his life in her hands. She asks him to trust her in another way instead.

* * *

Author's Note: Human Nature/The Family of Blood had Rose not fallen into a parallel universe during Doomsday.\

* * *

"Do you trust me?"

There are a lot of reasons why she shouldn't, of course. He'd proven to her time and again that he'd go behind her back (sometimes literally, like with that damn parallel universe jumper thing) if he thought he knew better than her. But it was the Doctor. She trusted him with her life on a daily basis. She even trusted him with her heart, even when she shouldn't, and even though she'd never told him as much. She doubted she'd ever meet anyone she trusted as much as she did him.

"Of course I trust you," Rose said.

"Good. I need to rely on you this time. More so than usual, that is. Because I can't do this without you. I'm going to turn myself into a human, so it'll all be up to you."

"Turning yourself human? What? S'that like regeneration?" Rose asked, slightly panicked. "'Cause I remember the last time you did that and, sorry, but you were completely useless straight after. D'you think this is such a great time for a twenty-four hour nap?"

"No, it's not like that. It's temporary. I'll store myself as I am now in here," the Doctor indicated to an intricate-looking fob watch that he'd retrieved from the junk he kept under the console. "My body will be turned human, and the TARDIS will come up with a life story for me, and integrate me into society."

"What, so you won't remember anythin'?"

"No. Until we open the watch – which we'll do after three months, when the Family will have died off – I'll just be an ordinary human."

"You won't even remember me?"

"Well, there'll be a degree of residual awareness that'll allow me to let you in, but it'll really be up to you to make sure you're integrated into my life. I doubt it'll be hard. I might not remember you, Rose Tyler, but I'll always need you around me. And I really do need you to be as close to me as possible, this time. I'll be putting my life, everything I am, in your hands."

"Then it's not about me trustin' you after all, is it?" she pointed out. "Your life in my hands –sounds to me like you're the one who needs to be trustin' me."

"'Course I do," the Doctor replied immediately. "Rose Tyler, the hero of folklore in at least thirteen galaxies throughout time and space. The stuff of legend. Saved my life personally more times than I can count. I always trust you."

"Do ya, though? With the stuff that really matters? Because every time we get in a situation as dangerous as you're makin' all this sound, you go and send me off without warnin', instead of trustin' me to take care of myself. How can you trust me with your life if you don't even trust me with mine?"

The Doctor was silent for a long while, already staring at Rose a bit like she was someone he'd never seen before, even with his memories still intact.

"Is that what you think?" he eventually asked. "That I keep trying to send you away because I don't _trust_ you?"

"Sometimes I dunno what to think," she admitted.

"Rose, that's not ... I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you and I could've prevented it. That's why – that's the _only_ reason – I would send you away. Never doubt that I trust you. Sometimes I trust you more than I trust myself."

Rose contemplated that, aware in the very back of her mind that the danger of their situation meant they had to hurry up and do something other than keep the TARDIS ducking and diving out of the alien's range. "If you trust me more than you do yourself, can I ask you to do something?"

"Anything."

"Don't do this."

The Doctor frowned. "Rose, I have to –"

"Doctor, please. I have a bad feelin' about this. I know you think that this is the solution, but there's just so many ways it could go wrong. More than your usual plans, even. And usually, you're right there to think your way out of whatever crazy situation your plans have put us in. But you won't remember being you if you do this. If things go wrong, you won't be able to bail us out at a minute's notice."

"If things go wrong, you can open the watch."

"What if we get separated, though? What if I have the watch, and they catch me, and I can't get back to you. You won't even know that anythin's wrong. Or if they catch you and I can't get near enough to you to let you out of the watch. Or worse yet, what if they somehow get their hands on the watch and just use that for whatever it is they want? They could do that, right? And then you and me'll be left without a way to stop 'em."

"Rose, you can handle this. They're unlikely to be able to track us anyway; that's the point of all this. But if they do, I know you'll figure something out."

"But what ..." Rose trailed off, the words catching in her throat. This was her main concern, the thing that she didn't really want to bring up for fear that he'd realise the true reason behind that fear. But if he wasn't going to listen to anything else... "What if you're hurt while you're a human? It doesn't even need to be anythin' to do with aliens. You might get hit by a car or somethin'. You'll be _human_, Doctor. You won't be able to just regenerate. It's like you was sayin' about livin' with yourself if somethin' happened to me. How'm I supposed to feel if you die because of this when I could've stopped you?"

"Rose ..."

"No," she said, suddenly resolute. "I won't let you do this."

"Just like that?" the Doctor asked, amusement quirking the corners of his lips.

"Yep, just like that. I've got a gut feeling, and I trust it. I need you to trust it too. Don't do this."

"All right."

"All right?" Rose asked, shocked but hoping she'd heard right.

"Yes. I forget sometimes, but you humans are amazing. You've got all these little instincts and intuitive skills that you mostly ignore, but they're so often spot on. Rose Tyler's gut instinct? No better guide in the universe, I say."

Rose sighed in relief. "Good. Oh, good. Thank you."

"No worries. Just means I have to use my completely brilliant Time Lord brain and my very own instincts to come up with an even better plan. A doubly better plan. No, triply. And now that I've set the bar that high, better get cracking on it, wouldn't you say?"

"Nah, it's when you aim for 'quadruply' that I'll start worryin' you're stretchin' yourself," Rose teased, flashing her tongue between her teeth in a smile.

"Quite right. So, come on Rose Tyler. We've got some aliens to confront. Alons-y!"


	4. The Perils of Unrequited Feelings

Summary: The Doctor realises that in stringing Martha along, he might have lost the one thing Donna pointed out that he needed – someone to stop him.

* * *

Author's Notes: An introspective look at the way things actually were.

* * *

The Doctor is not a stupid man. Far from it. He has such a complex mind and such extensive knowledge of the universe (all that is, was, or ever could be) that he fancies that he might be the most intelligent being in all of time and space, now that the rest of the Time Lords are gone. On his lower days he'll admit that that's probably a slight overstatement, but nonetheless, he's brilliant and he knows it.

So being intelligent, he doesn't miss much. He certainly doesn't miss something as obvious as the way Martha Jones looks at him like she wishes he'd stop seeing through her.

He told her when he met her that it wasn't going to be like _that_ between them. She'd in turn been very quick at the time to assure him that she wouldn't even consider him that way. But she'd already had the beginnings of that look in her eye, and he'd known, even then, that it was a lie.

He was extremely familiar with lies, after all. He told them to himself all the time.

He could have been more upfront with her about it, after that first comment. If he'd pushed the issue, surely she wouldn't have had room for hope. If he'd just confronted her properly after they'd been together a while – set her straight – maybe they could have settled into a more comfortable friendship instead of this constant tension that's between them. But he's never been good at talking about feelings. Or having feelings, for that matter. And though the tension is hardly ideal, it's better than nothing. The Doctor doesn't want to risk pushing Martha too far away, as he did with Donna. The memory of just how completely alone he was after Rose is still too fresh in his mind. He doesn't want that. He can't handle that. Not just now.

Still, his inability to be honest with Martha means they're stuck in this in-between place. And he's already starting to see that that has consequences.

He never allows himself to think about what might have happened if Rose was still with him, because the pain of thinking about her is overwhelming. Sometimes, though, he thinks about Donna Noble. It's not that he doesn't want Martha with him. But having Donna in the TARDIS along with the two of them would have solved a lot of problems, he's sure.

Donna told him he needed someone, and he certainly has someone. Martha is intelligent and capable and really quite a lot of fun most of the time. But Donna meant he needed someone to step in when he goes too far. Martha might have become that person, if he'd done things differently. He knows that she's logical enough for it. But by allowing them to stay on uneven footing, he thinks he might have lost the thing that he can finally admit he needs most of all - someone to stop him.

He doesn't blame Martha, of course. It's his fault that things are the way they are between the two of them. He knows that, and he accepts the responsibility. Just as he accepts responsibility for the deaths in Farringham in 1913 that his madcap idea of turning human has just caused. It's not Martha's fault he didn't have time to think things through. He tries to express that much to her when he thanks her for looking after him and hugs her. But still, deep down, he wishes she'd questioned him. He thinks that his idea was so spur-of-the-moment that any proper hesitation on her part might have made him pause and see the holes of logic in the plan. If he'd just had time to think ...

He thinks of Donna, who might've slapped him upside the head and told him what an idiot he was for thinking for just one moment that it was a good idea to make himself human and hide away.

He likes things well enough the way they are, and he'll never regret asking Martha Jones to come along with him, but it doesn't stop him from wishing things had been different.

~FIN~


End file.
